


Everyone loves the villain

by anxious-vigil (roses_have_thorns)



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: descriptions of violence, dont think it's quite worked out that way, its not as fun as he thought it would be, this was meant to be my attempt at fluff, virgil goes on an adventure!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses_have_thorns/pseuds/anxious-vigil
Summary: Roman pulls Virgil into his realm to get to know him better. The only problem is, Virgil starts to feel like a villain and Imagination always reflects our inner beliefs.





	Everyone loves the villain

Roman knocked gently on Virgil's door, rocking back on his heels nervously. There was a heavy clunk followed by a series of smaller clatters, some quiet crashes and a loud thunk followed quickly by someone swearing softly. The other side swiftly pulled the door open.

“Hi Pat- oh. Hey Roman.” The prince stared. The anxious side was without make-up and there was a large red mark spanning his forehead. “Did you want something?” Virgil raised an eyebrow and Roman snapped out of his daze.

“Sorry, you've got...uh.” He gestures to his own face to demonstrate where the bruise was forming. Virgil's expression darkens and Roman moves on quickly. “However, I came to grace your doorway because, well...” He shows Virgil the notebooks piled in his arms. “There's some pretty good stuff in your corner of Patton's room. We've worked together well before, I believe we can again.”

“You're kidding, right?” Head injury forgotten, Virgil snatches the notebook on the top of the pile out of Roman's hands and flicks through it. “This stuff is crap. We need to bury it forever in case anyone sees it.” His eyes light up. “Wait, you actually managed to get them out of Patton's room? C'mon, let's head to the memory dump before he notices.” He grabs Roman's arm and tries to tug the rest of Thomas' adolescent writing out of his grip.

“Wait, no! Apart from anything else, Patton would be furious with me and I don't want my good looks ruined! I'm under very strict orders to take good care of these.” Roman yanks the notebooks back towards him. “Look, these are important to me. If Thomas hadn't created these worlds and characters then he wouldn't be anywhere near skilled enough to bring life to his imaginings now. We should not, must not, forget about them.” Virgil is stiff and avoids his gaze. “Plus, I like them.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I'll admit they're a little... unrefined but they have a certain charm. Oh!” He scrambles for a lilac notebook, crouching to the floor to sort through the pile deftly. “Here, look at this novella about a ghost that realises his presence is keeping his family in mourning and decides to travel the world instead of making them sad, even though it means leaving the people he loves. He eventually comes back and now that he's happier in himself, his presence makes them happy instead. There's definitely something there.” He traces the childish writing with a finger.

“Something stupid maybe.” Virgil retorts but his tone is uncertain. Roman looks at him steadily.

“That's not true, Virgil. I'd really like to work with you again. I actually came here to see if you'd like to explore the Imagination with me. See what we can create. This is all just...” He waves a hand dismissively. “Persuasion.” Virgil looks at him in shock.

“You never let anyone in your realm.” Roman shrugs up at him.

“I'm making an exception. I'll give you some time to think about it.” He gathers up his pile of writing and stands.

“No, uh, now's fine. I'll just grab my hoodie.” Virgil spits out quickly as if afraid the offer will be taken back. Roman blinks at him in surprise then chuckles.

“It's good to see that you're eager but older clothes would probably be better than your fabulous new hoodie. Things can get messy in Imagination. I need time to get these back to Patton so I'll meet you by the front door in ten minutes?” Virgil nods and turns to shut his door. “Virgil, I need to take these notebooks back to Patton.” He looks at the other side meaningfully. “All of them.” Both of their gazes drop to the composition book clutched in Virgil's hands.

“Right. Sure.” Virgil hands it over slowly. “See you in a bit.”

 

True to his word, Roman rushes to get to Patton's room and back quickly. He's first to the front door and takes a second to snap his fingers, twisting his clothes into the outfit he always wears when he first enters Imagination, paint-stained joggers and a tie-dye t-shirt that didn't quite work out how he wanted it to. They won't last long as they are in his realm anyway. He waits patiently for a quarter of an hour before going to search his new partner out.

 

Virgil doesn't answer his soft knocks so he pushes the door open to see him sitting hunched on his bed, shoulders shaking, a black hoodie in his white knuckled grasp. “Virge? Is everything ok?” he questions gently. “We can go another time if this isn't good for you?” Virgil's spine straightens.

“No. Let's do this.” He stalks out of the room and Roman follows helplessly. They reach the front door and Virgil stares at him expectantly, looking almost like the Anxiety of old in his dark clothes. Roman nods at him and reaches for the doorknob, a gold contraption surrounded by a colour-wheel, looking somewhat like a large compass with a handle in the middle. He concentrates as he twists until the gold pointer is in the red section. With a grunt, he flings the door open and white light explodes from the opening before racing off into the distance, the great halo forming trees and mountains as it goes. Roman turns to face Virgil, bright from the exhilaration of creation.

“I've made a traditional fairy-tale land for your first time and it's in story-mode which means once we step through that door all of the rules of that world will apply and we won't be able to return until Thomas summons us or until the story has completed itself, whatever that may take. This will be unlike anything else you have experienced so be cautious.” Virgil snickers.

“You're telling _me_ to be careful.” A grin forms on Roman's lips.

“Fair point. After you?” They enter the unknown together.

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil looks around an empty clearing surrounded by impossibly tall trees. Flowers cover the ground, their colours looking brighter than in reality. He stuffs his hands in his pockets uncertainly and turns to look at his guide. “So, uh, what are we meant to do? What's the story?”

“It'll still be dormant now, it'll evolve as we explore. Just have fun. Mess around.” The prince throws his arms wide with a smile. “We have a whole world to play in. The story will create and fulfil itself.” Virgil nods and looks around slowly. He crouches and pokes at a daisy. It closes lazily and then blooms again, winking at him gently. He touches it again, fascinated but Roman grabs his hand, pulling him to his feet. “C'mon, I think there's a town this way!” Roman pulls him down the hill, whooping in excitement. Virgil drags behind, trying desperately to place his feet steadily on the slope. He accidentally stomps on a flower and can't fight back the urge to apologise. Roman sends him an odd glance. Together they tumble haphazardly down the side of the mountain, falling head-first into adventure.

 

Following Roman's intuition (Virgil wonders if it counts as intuition if you literally created the world you're in.), they end up at the edge of a small village. Judging by the sheer amount of people and _noise_ , it's market day. Virgil pulls away and Roman calls out to him.

“Where are you going?” Nonplussed, Virgil gestures to the obvious route that skirts around the town.

“These people aren't gonna know us. We're gonna be outsiders.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“You can sit and sulk in your own realm, Tall, Dark and Edgy, my realm is an experience. You need to take a part in it, no-one likes a passive protagonist. Here.” He links Virgil's arm in his and grins sunnily down at him. “Better?” Virgil's mind blanks as Roman pulls him close, drowning in the warmth of sensation. He numbly notes that the pink tie-dye abomination has bleached of any colour and Princey's now wearing a white shirt with leather leggings. Glancing down as he's dragged relentlessly into civilisation, he sees his own outfit has been replaced by a black tunic and loose cotton trousers. The change must have been gradual enough that he didn't notice it happening before it was over. He'll admit to being confused as to why Roman wanted him in his old outfit. He'd assumed he'd be playing Anxiety, but if his clothes were gonna be replaced anyway? He doesn't understand Roman.

 

Sound bubbles around them as they step into the centre of the village, where the market is being held. Roman looks around with sparkling eyes, seemingly undeterred by the darker side clutching at his arm. He hums, digging in his pockets before making a noise of triumph when he sees the satchel lying at his feet.

“Our characterisation will improve as we influence the plot with our actions.” he explains to Virgil, pulling a clinking pouch out of his bag. “Looks like I'm quite rich. Here, treat yourself.” He carelessly drops a handful of gold coins into Virgil's hands. “Let's explore, find out about the world-building. Oooh, look!” He barely keeps up with Roman as the other side makes a beeline for a stall full of shiny trinkets. He spends some time cooing over different charms and Virgil relaxes, examining an amethyst necklace. Except, when he looks up Roman is across the square, looking at flowers. He panics, quickly dropping the charm and apologising hurriedly to the stall-holder before pushing his way through the throng to try to catch up to the other side. He makes good time in reaching the flower-stall and breathes a sigh of relief but Roman's not there anymore. He wildly searches the crowd and all he sees are strangers. His thoughts begin to spiral. Roman probably doesn't even want him here. Patton might have pushed him into spending time with him and this was the easiest place to lose Virgil in. He's only ever gonna be a burden to Creativity. As his state of mind darkens, so do the looks he gets from the villagers around him. When a mother pulls a crying child out of his way, he realises his characterisation's gone wrong. What did he do to make the plot change? It doesn't matter, it just means that around other people probably isn't the best place for him to be. He makes his way across the square, crowds parting before him, only stopping to buy the amethyst charm on a whim. Virgil leaves the town.

 

He walks for an hour before his way is blocked by a river and he settles on a nearby rock to think. His outfit seems to have grown impossibly darker to cement his character's status as an outsider. A black leather satchel has appeared by his side and he looks inside with a morbid curiosity. Strange potions of many vivid colours, varied and odd ingredients line the bag and the knowledge of what they each do slots quietly into his brain.

“I'm a mage?” he murmurs quietly, flipping the satchel shut, taking note of the runes tooled into the leather. He sets his thumb on the sigil over the buckle and pulls _something_ from deep inside himself. It activates with a purple glow and he knows no-one else can get at his belongings. The rush of power surprises him and he grins. Virgil stands, already planning to explore how he can use his new abilities, when he's nearly knocked over by a strong gust of wind. Something heavy lands behind him and the shock-wave from it does knock him over. It also sends the river into the air, covering him in stinking water.

“Virgil.” rumbles a low voice. “You've _never_ looked better. You have the amulet?” He stands and dries off his clothes with a flick of his hand, turning to face a massive green dragon that he … knows?

“Of course.” He smirks, pulling the amethyst necklace out of his pocket. “Dumb villagers never suspected a thing.” The dragon snorts.

“They had a known dark wizard gracing their pathetic little market. My spies tell me you made a child _cry_. Hurry up, the king will hear of this soon and we need to have the spell prepared **now**.” She crouches and Virgil swings himself up to sit behind her neck in one practised move. Runes spark to life around him and a yellow glow slams his face and body into her scales with magnetic attraction. “Sorry.” she says unapologetically. “Can't have you falling off, you're far too... valuable for that.” That's all the warning he gets before she launches herself into the sky.

 

Apparently, their lair is halfway up a cliff-face. Virgil doesn't want to admit he's scared of heights. The dragon-witch shifts into her human form and disappears into her rooms with the amulet, snapping that she'll send a messenger when she needs his help with the spell. Virgil lets muscle memory that isn't his direct him to a drab damp little cave at the back of the lair. There's a bed with a black robe lying over it instead of sheets. A staff leans against the wall and three well-used spell books lie on a rock shelf. There's nothing else. Figuring since Roman brought him here to play a character he might as well do it to the best of his ability, Virgil pulls on the robe and it settles around him with a heavy familiarity. He knows this role. He's lived it. This is not who he wants to be. But it's his character, his part in the plot. There's no Thomas to save him from his own self-destruction here. Making a decision, Virgil presses a series of runes to expand his satchel and shoves his spell-books in. Grabbing his staff, he goes to flee the lair. He will not play this game.

 

“Finally decided to join us, _Virgil_?” Stepping out into the main cave, the big one that overlooks the cliff, he realises someone has found them. Roman stands there in elaborately designed and painted armour. The ink's in white and red, his colours, and the patterns swirl, full of threatening bloody thorns protecting a single white rose on his breastplate. He looks beautifully dangerous. The prince brandishes a sword that's period-appropriate rather than a katana and he knows it will be wickedly sharp. “Now, that there's two of us, you're outnumbered _as well_ as outmatched. Shoo.” A dragon blocks Virgil's escape route. He tries to shuffle awkwardly around her and she fixes him with a yellow-green glare. Her eye is the size of his head. He swallows nervously.

“Well, uh, I'd rather stay out of this fight actually.” The dragon shifts into the witch, cackling all the while. The smaller size is not any less terrifying.

“So, you come crawling to me, begging for protection from the king's men who would slaughter you for your magic and now you're backing out on the price? I always knew you were a coward.” She sneers and thrusts out a hand. His magic is no match for hers and he's thrown backwards, yellow smoke pinning him to the cave wall. “No matter. I shall take what is due another way.”

 

She pulls an ornate dagger out of nowhere and Virgil's scrabbling to escape, lips spitting Latin that doesn't seem to do anything. “The ritual I'm planning, which will wipe out all pesky humans within some miles by the way, only needs two more ingredients. You've already unwittingly provided all the rest.” She advances, hovering the point in front of a wide terrified eye, running the blade along his cheek. It's cold. “By the end of today, I shall have the heart of a maiden,” She frees one arm and pulls it straight with an unnaturally strong grip. “and blood unwillingly shed by an ally.”

 

The dagger pulls through his arm and he screams, gaze finding a horrified Roman held back by a wall of yellow runes. “If it's any consolation,” the dragon-witch comments casually. “I was planning on doing this all along. The opportunity was too good to miss.” His blood drips into a vial and she squeezes to make it flow faster. Unused to pain, he's usually not bound by reality after all, he wails, babbling pleas leaving his mouth. Whether he's begging her to stop or Roman to save him, he's not quite sure. An eternity and a few minutes later, she releases him and he falls to the floor, somehow completely numb despite the white-hot pain. He doesn't register her shifting forms again. He doesn't register the sounds of a raised voice over the buzzing in his ears. He does register the swipe of a claw sending him tumbling over the edge of a cliff and a dragon flying off, funnily enough.

 

His back thuds into a branch and he scrabbles desperately for a hand-hold as he slowly slides off the tree growing out of the rock. Splinters dig into his palms and blood from his wound slickens the wood but he manages to cling on. His arm is _burning_ with hurt. He doesn't have the breath for a spell or a free hand to draw runes. A dry sob escapes him. He knows that however long he manages to hold on, he will fall eventually. This is the end. The clatter of a horse's hooves echo in the distance. A sudden gale shakes his perch and his grip loosens. He claws for something, anything, to keep him there. He fails.

 

Virgil lands on something soft and arms wrap around him. “You ok? Virgil? Look at me please. The fall shouldn't have hurt you too much, I caught you and it's fairy-tale physics. Are you badly injured? I'm _so_ sorry.” He cracks his eyes open to seeing Roman peering down at him, lips moving in a blur as he babbles platitudes. He's managed to catch Virgil from the bottom of the cliff, while on horseback.

“I'm...” he grimaces as the word rattles around his skull. “... not exactly in the _best_ of shape, I guess.” He sits up with Roman's careful help, ending up astride the horse with the prince pressed against his back. He grabs a healing salve out of his bag and, after a moment of indecision about not having enough hands, passes it to Roman. “Here, hold this for a moment.” He focuses, flicks his fingers, and the splinters covering his arms fly out of his skin. He goes to take the salve back but Roman bats his hands away and opens the vial himself. Gentle fingers smooth the potion over his wounds and Virgil lets out a groan of relief as the pain fades and the scars disappear.

“Better?” Roman grins.

“Much.” Virgil replies, before shifting uneasily. “So, you, uh, saved the enemy? Won't that interfere with the story?” Roman's gaze softens.

“Not at all. You've been betrayed by the evil dragon-witch. I'm afraid it's time for your redemption arc, my dark and stormy knight.” He wraps his arms around Virgil's waist to grab the reins and rests his head on Virgil's shoulder to get a good view of the road ahead. “Now, we've got a maiden to save.” The horse rears and sets off at a gallop, following the looming trail of smoke. Roman's sure hands guide the horse deftly with confident tugs on the reins. Virgil's initial sheer terror fades to a constant inner monologue of 'we're going too fast, we're gonna hurt someone, does this count as speeding? Can you give a horse a ticket? Tree, tree, Roman move, tree! Go left, left, avoid the tree, AVOID THE TREE! Oh god, Roman's insane. We're doomed.'.

 

Miraculously, they don't hit any obstacles but as he dismounts with shaking legs, Virgil muses that he's sure that's got more to do with luck than Roman's skill, judging by the sheer number of near misses they had. He's almost glad to be fighting the dragon-witch instead of on that horse. Almost. He summons his staff to him and Roman draws his sword. Screams echo from the village and they run forwards, hoping it's not too late. The dragon-witch is in the middle of the town square. A young girl cowers in a dead end alley, cornered. Water mists the air from the fountain destroyed by her landing. At a signal from Roman, they move forward to attack. Virgil raises his staff and roars out a spell. Ice spears form from the water vapour and race towards the dragon-witch's head. She turns to look at him and his weapons evaporate into purple sparkles. He's oddly offended his attack has been turned into something so... glittery.

 

She snarls at him and through his fear he finds it in him to be glad that at least with her attention focused on him Roman is less likely to get hurt. “Foolish boy. Words have power, you should know that, and you gave me your truest name. You cannot hurt me now.” A curtain of yellow flames spew at his face. He manages to throw up a barrier but he's not sure how long he can hide behind it when her magic is so powerful. The wall above his protective ward starts to melt and he launches himself forward to avoid a glob of molten brick falling on his skull. He's not sure how long he stays there, crouched in his small area of protection while the world burns around him. The fire cuts off abruptly with a yelp of pain and he spares a glance to see Roman stabbing her thigh. The dragon-witch turns to face him and Virgil takes the opportunity to escape, laying another heat barrier horizontally above the molten paving stones and using it as a bridge to get to the alley. He may not be able to use his magic to hurt the dragon-witch but he can use it to protect others.

 

The alley is cool and dark, untouched by the devastation. Virgil takes a moment to scrawl a rune on the wall in ash, before grabbing the terrified girl and pulling her with him. He doesn't bother to explain his change of heart, they don't have time and she won't trust him until she sees how his actions have changed anyway. He gruffly directs her on how to step on the glowing walkway, rushing her over to the other side of the square while the dragon-witch's back is turned.

“Run.” he tells her. “Evacuate the village if you think you have time, but run.” She does and he rubs a rune onto the side of a house using chalk, before going to help the next group of people, trapped behind some rubble. He makes his way around the square, providing aid to those in need and preparing runes at strategic positions. Roman sees what he's doing and distracts the dragon-witch with showy flourishes of his sword and witty insults. Having cleared the square, and sent people to evacuate the village, Virgil turns to examine his handiwork. The circle will work best when activated from the rune painted with ink but a large paw blocks the way. The chalk one is next best and it's the one he'll use. He doesn't fancy feeling those claws again. Oh, look and he's right next to it, yay. He places his hand at the centre of it, shuts his eyes tightly and _yanks_ his magic from deep within him, funnelling it into the runic circle. A dragon roars but he doesn't flinch. It's not done yet. The clash of a sword. The dome in his mind's eyes winds closer to completion. “VIRGIL!”

 

His eyes snap open. Purple glows softly all around them. Roman grabs him and drags him out of the way of a burst of fire. “What did you do?” They crouch behind an overturned cart.

“Protective barrier. Except it's a runic circle, and it's, uh, directed inwards. So everywhere else is protected but we're, um, trapped. Sorry.” Virgil winces, hunching in on himself. “At the time, it seemed like-”

“Virgil...” breathes Roman. “That's _brilliant_. No-one else will get hurt.”

“Yeah, well.” Virgil scratches at his neck. “It's your turn now. I'll heal you if you need it but I can't hurt her.” Roman nods and vaults over the cart. Through a gap in the boards, Virgil watches as the two clash again and again. Roman dances out of the way of a swipe. The dragon-witch deflects his blow with her tail. Flames brush against his barrier but go no further. The purple glows warmly. It's almost choreographed how they spin in and out of each other's reach without ever drawing blood. Well, until Roman gets in close and thrusts his sword through her heart. Warm blood spills out over his torso and he staggers away.

 

He screams. Virgil ignores the death-throes of the dragon-witch as he runs to meet the other side. Roman falls before he's close enough to catch him. The dragon blood is burning like acid through his skin. The prince's breath hitches and begins to falter. Virgil swears, and pulls potion after potion out of his satchel. His hand hovers over a spell-book. No, he's got this. There's no time to look anything up. He knows what to do. Moving slowly but purposefully, Virgil pours three carefully chosen potions down Roman's throat, pausing at points to make sure he swallows. They need to be activated now. Leaning over the other, he parts Roman's lips and breathes out, sending a spark of his magic down to chase after his concoctions. Horses clatter and he looks up to see the royal guard have finally arrived. They're staring behind him, he assumes at the dragon-witch, but when he turns back he sees Roman suspended in purple light and very much alive and well.

“Virgil... could you get me down from here please?” Virgil snickers and grabs Roman's arm, hauling him out of the sky.

 

It's a few days later in fairy-tale time. Virgil's been given rooms in the royal castle and hired as the official sorcerer. Magic is no longer outlawed after the people saw him bring their prince back to life. They're even throwing him a festival for his services to the crown. The villagers are so excited for it, he didn't have the heart to tell them there's nothing he'd have hated more. Which brings him here, hiding out on the balcony after all the speeches were given. Dancing has started up but this mage is not going to the ball.

“Thought you'd be out here.” Roman shuts the door behind him and joins Virgil in overlooking the kingdom. “Is the festival not to your liking?” The prince sounds uncharacteristically worried. Virgil looks at him, really looks at him.

“Princey, did you invite me here hoping to throw something like this?” He gestures inside. “Was all this... an excuse to do something nice for me?”

“Would a prince use such underhanded tactics?” His act isn't very convincing and Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Ok, yes, perhaps. I just... never know how to talk to you. I thought you'd _enjoy_ it here.” Virgil shrugs.

“I liked the flowers. Maybe next time don't have me thrown off a cliff.” Roman growls.

“I told you, I don't control the story. Our thoughts and actions create it, and I certainly never thought you were a villain. _I_ wanted to have a nice story about finding a magical object at the market, or getting a peasant into the ball to see the prince or working together to save a damsel, or learning to ride a dragon-”

“To be fair,” Virgil interrupts. “I have done all of those things.” Roman sighs.

“Why do you still think you're a villain, Virgil? Have I not done enough? Do I still tease you too much? I thought we were getting along _better_. I thought this was a _friendly outing.”_ His eyes pierce Virgil and he drops his glass in surprise. Someone swears from below the balcony as it lands and smashes.

“You told me to wear my old clothes.” he stammers.

“Well, yes, I didn't want you to lose your new hoodie. But please don't change the subject Virgil, I'm trying my best to _help_ you.” Virgil drops his head into his hands in realisation and all of a sudden it's the funniest fucking thing to him. He starts laughing and soon finds he can't stop. Any time he looks at Roman new peals break out. The prince is steadily looking less nonplussed and more annoyed. “Is it so hilarious that I want you to not hate yourself?” he questions sharply. Virgil shakes his head quickly, unable to speaking through whooping gasps. “Jesus, Virgil, calm down.” Roman's starting to look worried now as it becomes clear Virgil can't control himself. He draws the other up into a hug, rubbing a hand along his back. “Hey, c'mon, follow my breathing.”

“I thought...” Virgil snorts, desperately trying to stop another bout of hilarity. “I assumed you wanted my old costume. I couldn't figure out why you wanted Anxiety, it sent me in a real downward spiral.” He tries to draw back to wipe his eyes but Roman just pulls him closer.

“Why would you think that?” Roman asks in bewilderment,

“Hey. Every fairy-tale needs a good old-fashioned villain. That always used to be me.”

“Never again.” says Roman fiercely, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “I will never make you into the villain again, understand?” Virgil nods. “God, this was supposed to be the beginning of us getting closer as friends, why did it have to go so wrong?” Roman buries his face in Virgil's shoulder.

“I don't know.” Virgil muses. “Working together, having magic... it's actually been somewhat fun.”

“Yeah?” Roman's eyes light up. “Do you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

“Sounds good. But right now, I really miss my hoodie. The story's done, right?” Roman nods with a soft smile, steps back and gestures dramatically. Nothing happens. He frowns and gestures again. Nada.

“What's... going on...?”

“I don't know. It _should_ work, the only time it doesn't is when there's still some plot to work through.” Roman pauses, deep in thought and then a look Virgil can't decipher slowly spreads across his face. “...all of the rules of that world will apply...” he whispers.

“ **What?** ” Roman looks at Virgil with a silent apology in his eyes.

“Stories tend to follow set patterns. This is a fairy-tale land and you rescued a member of royalty, the traditional prize-”

“You gave me a job!”

“I'm afraid that isn't enough Virgil. You did wake me up from an enchanted sleep with a kiss.”

“It was a _transfer of magic.”_ Virgil hisses. “And isn't all that just for princesses?”

“Please. This is _Thomas_ we're talking about, everything about him is gay, including the fairy-tales taking place in his subconscious.” Roman reaches for Virgil but he glares and turns to stomp off. “Virgil, don't go, we can talk about this!” Virgil hisses again.

“Never! I'm not even _starting_ that conversation.” He reaches the balcony door.

“Marry me!” Roman screeches desperately behind him. “I don't want to be stuck here all day, Patton's making cookies!”

“That's a terrible proposal!” Virgil yells back. “I don't want your crummy hand in marriage!” He flips Roman off and goes in search of the snack table. This is his festival, he shouldn't have to deal with this bullshit.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this was my attempt at fluff, it was meant to be just Roman and Virgil being buddies in his realm, it's ended up more along the lines of hurt/comfort. According to my muse it's just not a story without several misconceptions and some bloodshed...


End file.
